Reboot: Mechanic - Chapter 293 Sub Class

System, “You have a sickness. Moreover, you’ll have one in every world.”

Hao Ritian, “…”

System, “What’s wrong? Is there a problem?”

Hao Ritian smiled, “No, there’s no problem. I was just a bit excited.”

System, “…”

That smile intensified the system’s feeling of ominous foreboding. It has had this premonition since it learned the name of its host. Now it only prays that this is all its imagination!

Ps: Protagonist shou 1v1, the gong is always the same person.

- Description from Novelupdates

“For a long time, we humans have been like the chosen race, without any natural enemies, and have long been at the top of the food chain. Unfortunately, I have to tell you...” “When there is only one bird in a forest, then the forest is basically fake, and the bird was put there by someone...” “No matter how a fish swims, it can never meet any of its kind, which only means that the fish is kept in a fish tank...” “Yes, we are the birds in the forest and the fish in the tank.” “Yes, the world we live in is virtual!”

Life isn’t dramatic.

Takasugi Shinsaku once mentioned, “The mind to bring interest to an otherwise uninteresting world”, but if you’ll let me have my say, “An otherwise uninteresting world is also interesting”.

The world is just right with this level of boredom.

That is the conclusion to the results of my, Kagoshima Akira’s seventeen years of lived experience.

It’s not like anything’s ever going to happen.

I mean.

Witches from other worlds,

and cyber soldiers paying a visit from the future,

and psychics fighting under the instruction of research institutions

don’t exist, after all.

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.